


==>Player 3: Join The Game

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Breaking Celibacy Vows, Bulges and Nooks, F/M, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 07:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11527080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In which Kankri Vantas drops his vows and picks up two rad gamers. Just kidding,theypick him up and teach him the ways of red, red rom.





	==>Player 3: Join The Game

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rag/gifts).



Your name is Kankri Vantas, and you never thought this’d happen. Ever.

You’d believed that Mituna was pulling another one of his -- ahem -- unfortunate pranks, when he’d confessed. He was simply uninformed about the harmful consequences of messing with a fellow troll’s emotions, also known as emotional manipulation. There was no way, _absolutely_ no way, Mituna could have known how close to the truth he’d gotten. Or so you'd thought.

Just as you’d been gearing up to properly inform him of precisely where and how he was mistaken, Latula had shown up, in all her radical beauty, and slung an arm around her matesprit. Her appearance -- meaning her showing up and now how she looked, of course, you’d never indulge in such shameful objectification -- briefly stayed your rant, which had then given Mituna enough time to, excuse the coarse language, blabber about the situation at Latula.

She’d looked up at you and flashed you a blinding grin, and you’d had to take a deep breath to control yourself. And then the air all rushed out of your lungs in a ‘whoosh’ you were sure was completely audible.

“Heeeeey, Kranki! He’s right, you know? We’re _really_ looking for a player three to join the game!”

You’d been flabbergasted. “What?!”

“Come on, dude! Surely you can’t have not expected Tuna and I to not have noticed you missing a few words in your lectures whenever we showed up. Eurgh. Double negatives, not cool.” She’d pulled a face, then continued. “Besides, it’s not like we could have missed your staring.”

Affronted, you’d flushed bright red. “I don’t-”

“Oh yes you do”, Latula had said, cutting you off, then pressed her lips to yours. Chastity vows be dam-disregarded, you’d melted into her touch almost immediately, and then nearly jumped when Mituna snuck his arms around you from behind.

She’d pulled away with a smirk, and you’d just...sort of...twitched, sending Mituna into a fit of snickers against your back. “Heheheyyy, look, Tula! He’s alive!”

“M’Tuna, no. Troll Frankenstein’s monster was pretty rad, but Kanny here doesn’t seem to be a mashup of parts, he’s the _full_ version. She held her fist out toward Mituna, who bumped it, before looking back at you, concern clear on her face. “You _are_ okay with this, right?”

A million thoughts had raced through your mind. As Cronus once said, ‘vwowvs are meant to be broken’ -- not that you agreed completely with him -- and you certainly aren’t asexual, so. So of course there was no point holding so fast to your vows if Latula _and_ Mituna were offering. Besides, one of the reasons you’d taken your chastity vows in the first place was to ensure that your attractions wouldn’t ever be problematic to any preexisting relationships; now that both members of said relationship were confessing to you, the vows suddenly seemed...less important.

“Yes. I’m okay with this; I am fully aware of the consequences and am thus knowingly consenting to participate in this polyamorous matespritship. Given the situation, I believe it will not trigger anyone in the vicinity if I freely discuss topics of a sexual nature?”

You’d looked around then, noting that while Latula and Mituna weren’t watching you with rapt attention, they didn’t seem to be at the ‘Kankri Please Sto+p’ stage yet. So you continue, “In that case, I request that we start slow. I hope you two don’t mind, but due to my personal circumstances, I may require a bit of a learning curve, regar-”

“Oh you’ll be getting a hell of a tutorial on curves, alright!” Latula had cheered, then put one of your palms on her rumblespheres. You’d started ranting about maintaining modesty in public areas, but then Mituna had interjected with an invitation to “hang out, like a date, ehehehehe”. In the ensuing high-speed race with you behind him on his skateboard, you’d lost any protesting words.

==>Time: skip three months.

Flash forward three months. You are still Kankri Vantas, and you are still in the flushed quadrant with Mituna Captor and Latula Pyrope. You’ve grown more comfortable epxloring your sexuality and really, just being around them in general.

Sometimes, you hang out with Latula and overcome the untouchable persona of her you’d built up in your mind -- your long-time crush on her had skewed your perception and made you place her on a pedestal. You’ve learned that despite her brash and confident presentation, she harboured insecurities which sprang from her fear of society’s judgement of her being inadequate. You’d sought to talk her past it and tell her that despite her lack of a sense of smell, she was no less troll than anyone else. She balances you out nicely, her brashness tempering your verbosity, your knowledge likewise complementing her impulsivity.

Other times, you go out with Mituna and get to know him better. You’d always found him aesthetically appealing, but always thought him to be too uninhibited for his own good. Now, in your countless gaming-related dates, you’ve experienced the nuances of his personality: from when he’s manic and excitable to when he’s cynical and rough; you know he struggles with this. You think he tears down a lot of the proper and restrained persona you’ve built for yourself. It’s strange, and dare you say it, fun.

Sometimes they go out together, when you’re socially exhausted and really just need some time to yourself, to relax and just read something. You wait for the twinge of jealousy at seeing Latula and Mituna out without you -- in face, you’re _expecting_ it -- but it never comes. Rather than feeling left out, you feel like they respect you enough to give you the space you need.

Most often, though, the three of you go out together, They'd taught you how to skateboard, how to videogame, how to ‘pop a chill pill rather than having it lodged up your wastechute’. Case in point: you’d just let a rather crude word fly.

It’s comfortable, falling in love and then falling into a sort of domesticity like this. But still, there was no physical intimacy. Sure, you’d kissed both of them multiple times, but it had never gone further than that; that, and a couple isolated instances of groping from Mituna. Of course, that didn’t stop them from getting intimate with each other, as you’d heard and seen multiple times when you’d stayed over at their hive.

You’d tried to lecture them once before Mituna broke into a parodied rendition of troll Bon Jovi’s ‘My Life’ as ‘My Hive’ and Latula had invited you to just join them. They’d both been right, of course. It wasn't a gross display of public affection if it was in their own hive, and you were indeed welcome to join them at any time; they are, after all, your matesprits. You just didn’t have the courage to join them.

You didn't have the courage to start something with them.

You didn’t have the courage to _tell_ them.

And then you did.

It was evening, and Latula and MItuna had just returned from a date, probably to the skate park, judging by the dust on their jumpsuits. You’d spent all day reading not social justice articles, but a romance novel. Inspired by the story and seized with a sudden wave of pity, you’d whispered something horrendously embarrassing and inviting when they’d flopped on the couch beside you.

Mituna had jumped up, almost bouncing on the balls of his walkstubs, and picked you up in a sloppy firestrifers’ carry to bounce up the stairs and toss you onto their concupiscent platform. He’d then jumped in immediately afterwards, making you bounce a bit from the movement of the mattress, and then Latula had slid in gracefully.

==>Stop dwelling on the past and narrate the current; go with the flow!

So that leads you to where you are now, one set of graspfronds twined with Mituna’s, the other cupped lightly over one of Latula’s rumblespheres. You’re kind of frozen, unsure if anything you do would be overstepping. The position gives you a sense of deja vu, but also a vague sense of terror. You’re out of your depth, you needed to build up to this.

You gingerly removed your fronds from her rumblesphere to grab her frondflipper instead, taking a few breaths to compose yourself. “I’m sorry to interrupt this, but can we. Can we start on familiar territory first? I know it’s inconvenient, but it would make me far more comfortable with the proceedings, and-”

Thankfully, Mituna reaches around the back of your head to your cheek and paps you, shooshing a bit madly. “It’th fine, shooooshththth”. You smile despite yourself, twisting your body in his direction to catch his lisping mouth in a kiss. He’s going to end up biting himself if he keeps up like that, and there was no way you’d let him get blood everywhere. Blood was unsettling to some trolls, although you yourself were not among that number.

It’s bit tricky navigating both his eagerness and his uneven teeth at the same time, but you manage it. You’re swept up in the kiss, astounded in the sheer amount of passion Mituna could put into a single kiss. Sure, he always spoke of being adept on a concupiscent platform, but here you are, experiencing it yourself, and you’re not quite sure of what to do with yourself.

Latula’s started pressing light little kisses on your nugbone-support column and what she could get to of your shoulders, with your turtleneck in the way. Thankfully it was loose enough that it could be stretched and not choke you.

You feel a bit inactive, since you’re not actually doing anything to your matesprits, but from the way they're acting, it seems perfectly fine. They'd mentioned something like this before -- that you could just sit back, relax and let them ravish you. You can't exactly relax, since it's your first time getting intimate with someone, but you most certainly could achieve the other two.

One of Latula's hands skills up your sweaters and rubs at your grubscars. You groan, and Mituna snickers into your talk blaster. He can't seem to stop, and ends up having to pull back when one of his fangs nearly cuts your upper blasterflap. You don't mind; it gives you a chance to get used to the feeling of Latula massaging at your scars. Besides, Mituna's laugh is...cute. He's coarse and intense and just messy in general. You think you live this ball of chaos, yours and Latula's hurricane.

You um let go of his hand to try to life his helmet, but after a few more moments of mad laugter, he does so himself, smiling rakishly. His untameable mop of hair flops in his face, obscuring his lookstubs. You know that's how he likes it, so you're not going to push him out of his comfort zone; it's rude to purposefully unnerve people like that.

The way Latula is stimulating you combined with how you're distracted by Mituna means you're so out of it that you don't notice his frondflipper sneaking to your nugbone. Out of nowhere, he digs his frondtips into your hornbeds, wrenching a cry from you. You toss your head back, both trying to increase the pleasurable friction and trying to get away from it. A faint 'ow' comers from behind you, but you're too caught up in the almost orgasmic feeling of your bulge unsheathing to do anything about it.

It takes you what feels like a minute to regain your senses -- it'd never felt that intense when you'd hesitantly explored your own body -- but as soon as you do, you check on Latula, who is holding her forehead with a bemused quirk of her blasterflaps.

If you hadn't already been flushed red, you would go even redder, except in embarrassment instead of arousal. "Latula, I'm sorry about that! It was unbecoming of me to acc-"

As seems to be becoming habit, Latula cuts you off with a kiss. You guess that means she's forgiven you. Despite her teeth, which are sharper than Mituna's if not more so, she feels far softer. Like with Mituna, you let her lead the kiss. She crawls into your lap, straddling you as she cups your face with her hands.

Your mobilisationstrings are starting to twinge at the strain of maintaining your upright sitting position with her weight added, so you scoot back far enough to lean your back against the headboard of the concupiscent platform. She sighs and nestles further into you, soft curves smushing against the plane of your thorax. It's what you've always wanted, what you'd never admit to fantasising about.

The normally soft and comfortable fabric off your sweater bothers your over-sensitised skin, so you break the kiss to attempt to squirm out of it. You lift the hem, notice how it was neatly covering your crotch, and set it back down again. Maybe you should leave your sweater on after all, even though it's swiftly heating up in the room.

It's too late, though. Mituna, up who had apparently been attached to the back of Latula's thorax doing something to her, reaches around her and grabs the hem again, roughly pulling it over your nugbone. It briefly gets stuck on your chin, but then Mituna _yanks_ extra hard on it and it becomes unstuck. Your hair floofs out in an unholy, statics induced mess, and your attempts to tame it are futile.

You try to cross your walkstubs, but Latula's weight on top of you makes it impossible. Your action does, however, catch both their attentions. Latula's eyes instantly drift drown, and Mituna makes a crotch grab. You jolt, feeling your bulge thrash at the sudden pressure, then buck up as your nook clenches around nothing. More genetic fluid pulses out of you as he squeezes rhythmically.

You're too close, too fasts so you flail at his frondflipper until he stops touching you. He moves on to Latula instead, unzipping her jumpsuit from the front and slipping his fronds inside, the touch familiar as if they'd done this a hundred times already. They probably had.

His frondflipper draws out and her bulge trails after it. Thick and ridged, it's beautiful. Unthinkingly you reach out, then, at the last moment, restrain yourself from the teal tendril.

"Ca- _may_ I?" you ask, lacking your usual eloquence. She nods, giggling, so you barely brush the tip with your frondtips, intending to begin a slow exploration. You don't get that chance. Her bulge twines around your fronds and clutches tight. Your own bulge squirms at the sight and you squeeze your upper-walkstubs to alleviate the wave of arousal that rolls through your body. She's lukewarm, a nearly fluorescent teal, and she feels nice and full in your hand.

You marvel at it, and, as you begun to trade your fronds along the ridges depending on the sounds Latula makes, Mituna's palm clasps over yours. You startle, but he only encourages you to move again, frondflipper remaining over yours all then while.

More wetness seeps into your leggings -- not _your_ fluids, but Latula's. Her gasps become interspersed with moans, high pitched and breathy, when Mituna slips his other frondflipper under her bulge. Judging from the way she's bouncing up and down, and how his fronds seem to have completely disappeared, he's got them in her nook. You press your blasterflaps to her nugbone support column as you squeeze her bulge, moving your fronts in tandem with its writhing motion.

It's not long before she forces herself down on your lap and Mituna's fronds as hard as she can, then freezes. You feel the gush of her genetic material along your fronds and walkstubs. You're in awe at just how much there is; you'd never produced so much yourself before. Perhaps Cronus' claim that 'the higher the blood, the more the material' wasn't a mere invention. Or perhaps the pheromones triggered by a matesprit joining caused a greater volume.

Mituna cackles gratingly, something about KO-ing the boss and getting showered in EXP. It's clearly a metaphor. Latula sighs contentedly, then crawls off off you, peeling her now-sticky jumpsuit off.

This brings into full view the sight of Mituna stark naked, fronds up his nook, and palm pressed into the base of his bulges. You know your staring is unseemly, but you can't help it. The ochre yellow bulges, slick with fluid, twine around each other and hold your attention rapt.

An arm sneaks around your shoulders as Latula, now nude as well, slides in next to you. "Level two!" she says, holding up two fronds in a V, then kissing you on the cheek. She reaches for your bulge, where it's making the surface of your leggings look like the surface of a stormy ocean and just as wet.

You shake your nugbone, honestly still a bit wary of your own anatomy. She asks if you're okay and you give her a verbal response that yes, you're fine. It alleviates her concern, though not her confusion. Regardless, she polls Mituna to her and kisses him deeply, passionately. One of her frondflippers joins his to twine with his bulges, and that is where your attention is drawn.

You pull your walkstubs up to your chest to watch as Mituna begins to fall apart at Latula's touch. He somehow manages to lisp his wordless vocalisations too; it's endearing. He gets louder soon enough, hips bucking erratically.

The anticipation builds. Somewhere along the line, the arousal coiling in the pit of you had gotten too much and you'd started rubbing your thighs together increasingly frantically. You still do not touch yourself, nor let anyone else touch you; you feel like that'd be crossing some sort of line, though you can't pinpoint exactly how.

Right as Mituna stiffens and hits climax, the frondflipper Latula had around your shoulders sneaks up and tweaks the base of one of your horns. It sends you reeling, and your orgasm hits you like a meteor. You curl into yourself and your walkstubs clench as the shocks ripple through you. You're faintly aware of gentle rubbing on your nub horn, grounding you as you feel like you're shattering and being swept away.

It's your first real orgasm; you've never consciously gotten off before. Of course, you've experienced diurnal emissions, and had to filter your sopor, but what young troll hadn't? Regardless, it felt so much better when you're fully awake to appreciate it.

Eventually, you start to feel more-or-less normal again, albeit floatier and lighter than usual. You shift in your seat and grimace at how wet and sticky your leggings are, and, _oh no_. None of you had released into a proper receptacle and now genetic material is everywhere. You flick nervously at your waistband, suddenly hit by a sense of shyness.

"2x combo!" Latula exclaims, and Mituna kisses her as he starts snickering again.

"That's my Tula! 612 point bonuthsth! Hey, Kan, you good over there? Need some quality mouth-to-mouth resuthtiuthsth...word?"

"Resuscitation" you provide, then continue haltingly. "And yes, I'm fine....Thank you, Mituna, Latula, for...that...experience. It was certainly..."

"I swear to troll Farore if you say 'a learning experiments".

"Kanny, are you saying we rocked your world?"

You give up on modesty and strip your leggings off, using the drier areas to wipe yourself off. "Yeah. That's...yes. That's exactly what I'm saying, Latula."

You kiss her, then Mituna, then after watching in as to shipment as they remove the plastic sheeting from the concupiscent platform, coax them into the recuperacoon with you. As the slime lulls you to sleep, sandwiched between your matesprits, you smile softly. You're glad you closed the door on celibacy, and consequently opened yourself to, well, _this_.


End file.
